


Fine Line

by Cherienymphe



Category: Fine Line - Harry Styles (Album)
Genre: Dark Harry Styles, F/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-14 22:20:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29674122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cherienymphe/pseuds/Cherienymphe
Summary: Your friendship with Harry has teetered on the edge of something more for years, the lines blurring until they were hardly visible. Harry has grown tired of this game
Relationships: Harry Styles/Reader
Kudos: 20





	Fine Line

**Author's Note:**

> WARNINGS: darkish themes, slight dubious consent, drug use, this is the tamest thing I’ve ever written
> 
> ! PLEASE DNI IF THIS OFFENDS YOU !

You could feel his eyes on you.

You could always feel them on you, the heat of his gaze so suffocating in a way that was hard to ignore. You didn’t even have to turn around to see the way his pink lips were pressed together, jaw clenching ever so slightly as the green of his eyes darkened just a tad. You’d witnessed it enough times to picture it as clear as day in your mind. A shudder passed through you, and the handsome blond before you noticed.

He was some lanky fratboy type, a bit too into himself, but a nice distraction nonetheless. The rowdy bar was filled with a seedy crowd of prospects, the pickings slim, and the man before you seemed like the best route to go. You hadn’t even wanted to come out, but Harry had given you some half-assed tale, voice gruff on the other end of the phone, as to why you should when Sarah had suggested the idea. His drummer loved a night out on the town.

It wasn’t shocking to find the brown-haired boy occupied with a fiery-haired model type whose smile seemed a tad bit wide. You had scanned the crowd for any other members of his backup band, but upon failing to find a familiar face, you’d reluctantly made your way to the bar. That was how you’d run into Tyler, the fair-haired man’s eyes lighting up the minute he noticed you. You took a sip out of the drink he’d bought you.

“Cold?” he wondered, and you started to shake your head, but decided against it.

How could you explain to him that your shivers had nothing to do with the temperature but instead the paralyzing gaze of your friend?

“A little,” you replied with a sheepish smile.

Ever the gentleman, or simply a guy who knew how to play the game to get what he wanted, he peeled his own jacket off. You took in the way his shirt clung to him, and as you raised your brows at his exposed arms, you thought to yourself that he wasn’t as lanky as you believed. Maybe the night would prove to be more fruitful than you thought. He’d only just moved to throw it around you when he paused, and even before his dark eyes fell onto something behind you, you knew what had made him stop. That suffocating heat clung to your back, draping over you like a blanket, much like the arm that found its way over your shoulder.

“I didn’t see you come in.”

His chest rumbled with the low timber of his voice as he pulled you against him, his hand coming around to brush his fingers along your exposed collarbone. You fought the urge to roll your eyes, but couldn’t hold back your grimace as the man before you flickered his gaze between you and the brunette at your back. His face fell, and even though you’d still been undecided on whether or not you were going to go home with him, you still mourned the loss of the possibility. 

“Oh...uh-.”

“Oh, hey man. Harry,” your friend introduced himself, and you almost sneered at the way he pretended to only just notice the person you’d been talking to.

He stuck his hand out, but Tyler only responded with a forced smile.

“Nice to meet you,” he tersely said before his gaze fell onto you. “...you too. It was nice talking to you.”

The disappointment in both his eyes and voice was almost enough to make you tell him that the guy behind you wasn’t a boyfriend. Far from it even, but Harry’s deep chuckle stopped you from calling the man back, and you turned to face him with a frown.

“You’re a jerk, you know that?”

You downed the rest of your drink before walking past him, and Harry kept up with your pace, hand coming up to rest on the back of your neck as his stride matched yours.

“...and what have I done?”

“You know what you did,” you complained with a scoff.

“You’ll thank me later, love. That guy looked much too tame for you.”

You could hear the smirk in his voice, and you shook your head.

“I’m going home. I shouldn’t have come out anyway,” you grumbled, and surprise filled you when Harry followed you to the door.

“I guess I’ll be joining you then. Not much worth giving my attention to in there…”

You glanced up at him just as the door of the bar shut behind you, cutting off the noise of customers and drunkards alike.

“The redhead looked interesting enough,” you commented.

He didn’t respond right away, and when you glanced at him again, his eyes were on you.

“Paying much attention to us, were you?”

You shoved him away from you, and his laugh reached your ears.

“Hardly. You were the one who begged me to come out remember? The least you could do is greet me at the door.”

You yelped when Harry wrapped his arms around you, pulling you against him.

“Missed me?”

Now it was your turn to chuckle, and you ignored the way his gaze zeroed in on you, like he was trying to devour you and figure you out all at the same time.

“...and if I said yes?”

He ran his eyes over your face, the green of them a tad brighter from the glow of the moon, a cool breeze ruffling his dark curls.

“Then I’d have to remind you that I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

Unable to hold his gaze, something you’re rarely able to do, you glanced away. Your eyes found the sidewalk as Harry continued his trek, pulling you into his side. The warmth of him seeped through your dress and clung to your skin, like every part of him seemed to do. Your friendship with the former teen band member turned rockstar was very...strange.

You’d met years ago, only months before the release of his first album. You’d been the friend of a friend and had met at some party hosted by someone you couldn’t even name now. You were a different person then. Legs wobbly and brain fuzzy from the many drinks you’d downed, you’d mistaken Harry for your boyfriend. 

The singer had had no desire to correct you as you fisted your hands in his hair, tongue halfway down his throat as he basked in the taste of some fruity drink on it. The lighting at the party had been dim, and you’d only realized your mistake when you were seconds away from shoving your hand down his pants in some bedroom. The empty boudoir had been bathed in light, and you still remembered the way he’d laughed when realization hit you. You were embarrassed as you stumbled into the hallway and downstairs, in search of your boyfriend.

That particular relationship ended up not lasting another week, and the next time you met Harry, it had been a much more formal setting. You’d officially been introduced and could hardly meet Harry’s eye as he shook your hand, a teasing smile on his lips. Despite the interesting start to your friendship, it was one that grew to stand the testament of time. Harry meant the world to you, and you were the first person he’d call when he had too much to drink and needed a place to crash. Your friendship was great…

...if you ignored the tension.

A heavy air had descended over your friendship forever ago, perhaps from the first night you’d met, and it had never seemed to go away. You could never pinpoint what it was or where it stemmed from, but it was there in the way Harry’s fingers tapped along your thigh while he drove. Or the way he’d wrap his arm around your neck when you’d be standing with your friends, nose brushing over your hair every once in a while. Or the way he’d find his way into your bed during the early hours of the morning when he stayed over, burying his face into your neck, sleep claiming him once again.

For so long, your relationship teetered on that line between friends and something more. You’d thought that all friendships were different and this was just how yours was, but eventually you had to admit it to yourself that the lines were blurred. They always had been, and you wondered to yourself how you’d ever begin to unblur them. That was what you wanted right? 

“You mind if I crash at yours t’night? Your pullout is more comfortable than my bed.”

Harry’s voice pulled you from your trance, and you gave him a shaky nod. With a crooked smile, he pulled you closer, burying his nose into your hair as he led you to your apartment. The rest of the walk was quiet, and the silence felt heavy for some reason as you finally walked up the stairs. You guessed that Harry had way more to drink than you did because he wasted no time before heading to take a shower, clearly desperate to get what you guessed was some much needed sleep.

He’d made a habit of leaving clothes over at your place, so finding something to place on the bathroom counter for him was no hard task. The low timbre that was his voice could be heard as he hummed a few notes, and you busied yourself with warming up some leftovers, determined to get the taste of alcohol out of your mouth. You were done eating by the time he came out, and you wondered to yourself why this always happened.

If things between the two of you were tense and bordering the line of something more around your friends, then it was something else entirely when you two were alone. Harry liked to study you, emerald eyes focused on you any chance they got as he gave you his undivided attention. It made you feel like every twitch of your jaw, every frown, every grimace was accounted for. Nothing concerning you got past him.

Harry watched you like a lover.

“There’s plenty more in there,” you told him as he made his way into the kitchen.

“You shouldn’t eat so late,” he chided, and as you glanced at the ‘3:00’ on the microwave, you supposed that he was right.

You shrugged before standing, moving to put your dishes in the sink. You could feel him behind you, and you ignored the way goosebumps broke out over your skin. You weren’t surprised when his arms came around you, the appendages pulling you back into his chest. You glanced down at the ink that covered his arms and swallowed.

“Do you work tomorrow?”

Confusion filled you at his question, but you answered nonetheless.

“No. Why?”

You tilted your head to look at him, eyes widening a bit as you realized your lips were a hair’s width away from each other.

“Niall’s in town. He’s throwing a little get together and wants you to come…”

Something in his eyes gave you pause, and you got the feeling that he didn’t want you to go. Was it because you had a habit of letting go at any party you went to? Or was it because you and Niall got along so well? Almost as well as you and Harry. You resisted the urge to sigh at yourself, telling yourself that you were overthinking it. Maybe Harry didn’t want to go and was looking for an excuse not to.

Unfortunately, you hadn’t seen the blond singer in over a year and missed him too much.

“Sure! Just let me know what time…”

Harry swept his gaze over you, so quickly you thought you’d imagined it, before sending you a tight smile.

“Great.”

He left you, and as you turned back to your dishes and Harry made quick work of pulling out the couch, you couldn’t shake the feeling that he didn’t think it was so great.

  


“I miss the blonde.”

That was the first thing you’d said to Niall, and he only laughed before pulling you into a tight hug. He hadn’t been around for nearly a year, but it did nothing to deter people from showing up. You could hardly move through the large apartment without brushing shoulders with someone. Harry had long left you to get something to drink, but you surmised that the brunette got distracted with either a familiar face or a pretty one. Maybe both.

By now you were way more relaxed than you were when you arrived, alcohol coursing through your system as you chatted with Mitch and Charlotte. The guitarist and piano player were catching you up on what you and Harry had missed last night after you left the bar. Something about cheating boyfriends and a fight. You were mid laugh when you glanced over and made eye contact with someone you thought you’d never see again. 

An old flame. Someone whose name you didn’t even want to speak let alone think. You two had never been official or anything, keeping things casual, but the eventual fall out had been messy and certainly wasn’t something you wanted to revisit. His jet black hair looked as neat as ever, bright eyes wide from some fashion drug, no doubt, and you suddenly had the urge to hide yourself away.

“I’ll be right back. Need to use the bathroom,” you told the pair before you.

You excused yourself before they had a chance to reply, making your way down the extensive hallway before depositing yourself in the very last room. You didn’t even know that him and Niall were friends, but you couldn’t blame the Irish singer for his actions. Your fling with the man in there had been lowkey, kept under wraps, so it’s not like Niall would’ve known.

Harry did though, and luckily for you, he was the one that intruded on your solitude.

“There you are,” he drawled, closing the door behind him. “I saw Andy come in...figured I’d find you hiding somewhere.”

You rolled your eyes with a shrug.

“I’m a coward. What else is new?”

You started to stand, but paused when Harry joined you on the bed, reaching into his pocket.

“What are you doing?”

“Well,” he started, pulling out the blunt and a lighter. “I had planned to welcome Niall back properly, but I think you need it more than him.”

You couldn’t hold back the laugh that bubbled in your throat, no attempt to deny his statement. You accepted as he passed it to you, unable to remember the last time you’d gotten high. You didn’t know how many minutes passed like that, the both of you sitting next to each other in silence, but eventually, like always, you felt Harry’s gaze on you. It was warm and pressing, and when you looked up at him, he didn’t bother to look away.

He was never ashamed of getting caught.

“Why do you do that?” you suddenly asked him.

“Do what?” he wondered.

The smirk on his pink lips and the mischievous glint in his eyes told you that he knew exactly what you were talking about, and you told him as such. His smirk simply grew, and when you reached for the blunt, he held it out of reach. You didn’t know what game he was playing at, but he brought it up to his lips instead, and your eyes widened with realization as he neared you. You knew what Harry was going to do, and while you were unsure if you wanted him to, you didn’t make any moves to stop him. You were paralyzed.

The last time you kissed Harry, you could barely remember what it felt like...what he’d felt like. Not this time. His lips met yours, the feel of them soft and tasting faintly of alcohol. For a moment, you forgot that he wasn’t just kissing you, and your eyes fell closed as you basked in the feel of him. Parting your lips, you inhaled the smoke that escaped his own, and your lashes fluttered at the feel. Harry held himself there for a moment, letting you breathe it all in before eventually pulling away.

Your heart was pounding.

There was a grin on his face when his eyes met yours again, and you watched in awe as he stood up, holding out his hand. As you took it, allowing him to pull you to your feet, you wondered to yourself how he did it. How could he be so casual while you were still reeling, feeling like you’d inhaled not only the smoke, but him as well? How could he take your friendship in his hands and dance along the line so well? Getting so close, but never fully crossing it.

It amazed you and terrified you in ways that left your head spinning.

The rest of the party went by without incident, and you and Andy avoided each other like the plague. Or perhaps, he could have been avoiding you. Harry’s constant presence might have contributed to that. Even now, as you relaxed in the backseat with Harry while Niall gave you a ride back to your place, you could recall the feather light touches of Harry’s fingers on your arm, your shoulder, your neck and even your back.

When you finally made it to your apartment, you both waved Niall goodbye, telling him you’d see him tomorrow. Harry, having way more to drink than you did, was a bit unsteady on his feet, but was far from wasted. However, you wondered how true that really was when your back met the wall the minute the door was closed. Harry was closer than he ever was, hands pressed into the wall at your sides, nose brushing over yours.

Too shocked by the position you found yourself in, you merely stared at the brunette. Your lips parted, but no words came out, and his green gaze was drawn to the action. Reminding yourself that you needed to breathe, you did so, heart skipping a beat when your chest brushed against his with the action. There was that look again, like he was trying to devour you and figure you out all at once, and you brushed your tongue over your bottom lip.

“Harry, I think that you’re…”

Your words died on your tongue when Harry’s lips met yours for the second time that night. This wasn’t like your first kiss all those years ago where you were drunk and thought he was your boyfriend. It wasn’t even like the one earlier that only served a purpose to get you a little high. This was a real kiss, one done with the intention of creating butterflies in your stomach and pulling moans from your throat. You didn’t know why Harry was kissing you, and while this uncharted territory scared you and made you want to shrink in on yourself, you couldn’t find the strength to voice your fears.

Harry’s hands were on your neck, fingers grazing the hair at the nape as he tilted your head whichever way he liked. His lips completely covered yours, leading in a way you’d never experienced before. You’d kissed a lot of guys, some of them bad, some of them great, but none like Harry. Every brush of his fingers had you trembling, and a low whine had climbed out of your throat just as your phone rang. 

Startled by the sound, you both jumped apart, and you pressed your hand to your mouth as you stared at him with wide eyes. You were positive that your apprehension and confusion was clear as day in your eyes, but Harry’s heated gaze reflected nothing of the sort. You swallowed at the way they darkened, the hunger in them as they narrowed, almost daring you to answer the call. Against your better judgement, you did just that, and hurriedly brushed past him as your mother started talking on the other end.

  


You had locked your door that night, and if Harry had tried to give into his usual habit of sleeping in your bed in the early hours of the morning, you were none the wiser. He had been gone when you woke up, and you didn’t even bother to swallow your sigh of relief. You hadn’t been ready to face him, ready to confront the shift in your relationship, and even an entire week later, that hadn’t changed. You’d always been a coward, but now there was no denying it.

You were avoiding Harry.

Most of his texts were only replied to with one or two word answers, and any talk of meeting up was deterred with some half assed excuse you’d come up with. You didn’t know how to navigate this new territory you found yourself in. You didn’t even know if you liked Harry in that way. Of course, someone would be a fool not to, but you’d never been the smartest of the bunch. Your apprehension was because of more than just him being an international heartthrob though.

Harry always behaved in a way that blurred the lines of your friendship. There was a time when you accepted that it was just who he was, but you were forced to rethink that when you noticed that he didn’t behave that way with anyone else. There were a few moments over the years where you wondered if he was just biding his time, teasing you with his intentions, dangling the inevitable in your face time and time again.

It was clear that he’d gotten tired of teasing.

Unfortunately, with Niall in town, you couldn’t avoid the man forever. No matter how much you wanted to, you couldn’t refuse Niall when he’d asked you to come out on one of his last nights. Even though you knew Harry would be there. It was how you found yourself stepping inside of the dark club with a grimace.

Neon lighting lit up the establishment, and you could hardly hear yourself think with how loud the music was. With the daunting crowd before you, it was a miracle that Niall had even spotted you, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards whatever table they’d claimed for the night. He was there. Even with your eyes fixated on your feet, you could feel that suffocating stare that never failed to make your stomach turn.

Only you could never figure out if it was in a good way or bad one.

You slid in across from him, and you finally lifted your eyes to meet his green ones. As usual, he was shameless in his perusal, dark curls resting messily on his head in a way that only he could pull off. He was sipping on a drink he’d bought, head tilted ever so slightly at you as he smirked behind the glass. Unable to hold firm under his scrutiny and judgement, you excused yourself under the guise of getting a drink.

You had to lean against the counter as you made it to the bar, taking a few deep breaths. You thought to yourself that this night was going to be harder than you thought, and with that, you ordered the strongest drink you could think of. The bartender had just walked away when you were startled by the sight of familiar hands pressing into the bar on either side of you. You felt his chest at your back a moment later, and you both sharply inhaled at the same time.

“Why ‘ave you been avoiding me?”

You weren’t surprised that he got straight to the point, so you decided to follow his lead.

“You kissed me,” was your simple response.

He didn’t respond right away, and if possible, you felt him step closer, chest flush against your back now. You felt him lean in, and your skin pricked when his lips grazed your ear.

“Did you not want me to?” he lowly asked.

The question seemed rhetorical in nature, but you answered anyway.

“Yes...no… I don’t know,” you sighed.

Against your better judgement, you turned around in the cage he’d made of himself, and your eyes met his as your back pressed into the bar.

“We’re friends, Harry,” you told him.

His eyes glinted with something that struck fear into you, the corner of his pink lips curving upwards into a mocking smirk.

“We’ve never been friends...and you know it.”

You didn’t respond to his words, to what you had long been denying, and instead you looked to the ground.

“I like what we have,” you murmured. “I don’t know if I want you in that way.”

“Then let me help you find out,” he whispered.

Those words traveled straight to your stomach, and you ignored the heat that flared within you. You turned to grab your drink that the bartender brought, and Harry slowly straightened, releasing you. Without meeting his eyes again, you rushed past him to join your friends. The tense air between you two remained for the rest of the night. Despite how much you wanted to just leave, you didn’t want to disappoint Niall, and so you endured it.

You put up with Harry’s heated and predatory gaze. You endured that mocking look in his eyes, equally scornful smirk on his lips every time your stare met his. Even when you found yourself on the dance floor, his fingers dancing along whatever sliver of skin you’d decided to show. However, if you were being honest, that wasn’t something you forced yourself to endure. The trail of fire that his fingers left in their wake proved that.

Unsurprisingly, you had your limit, and the time came where you couldn’t take anymore.

“I’ll see you soon, alright?” you told Niall, pulling him into a hug.

“You’re no fun anymore. It’s not even 12! I remember when you didn’t even slow down til 4,” he chuckled.

“It’s just one of those days,” you sighed.

He let you go, and you waved everyone goodbye. The only one who didn’t return it was Harry, and you got the feeling that he had no intentions of wishing you a good night.

Not yet.

You took a much needed shower when you got home, and the hot water did the trick of washing your stress away. Even in the confines of your bathroom, you could still feel Harry’s hungry gaze, and you wondered to yourself if this was it. If this was the point of no return for your friendship. Body still buzzing with the after effects of Harry’s presence, you decided to clean up the apartment a bit. When that was done, you cooked a snack, no mind given to how late it was.

It was a little under 2 hours later, nearing 2 in the morning, when there was a knock on your door. Despite the fact that you knew who it was, a sinking feeling in your gut that told you all you needed to know, you still asked.

“It’s Harry,” he drawled, and you noted that he didn’t sound drunk.

You didn’t know if that relieved you or not.

With a sigh, you stood in front of the door for what felt like the longest time. You debated with yourself on whether or not to let him in. Despite the weird limbo the two of you seemed to be in, he was still your friend, and yet… Somehow...you knew… You knew that if you let him in, your friendship would change forever. You didn’t know how you knew, but you just knew. Still, eventually you sighed and reached for the door, telling yourself that such a prediction was not a guarantee. 

Harry’s eyes were clouded with something you couldn’t -or didn’t want to- name as you opened the door. He’d taken off his jacket, and you wondered how the cold didn’t affect his bare arms. Neither one of you said anything as he strode inside, and you quickly turned to face him as you closed the door. You didn’t like the idea of turning your back to him. You pressed yourself to the door as he merely stared at you, a dark curl hanging into his face, and you exhaled.

“I’ll leave some clothes in the bathroom,” you quietly told him as you stepped by.

He didn’t follow, and you were grateful, quickly finding him something to sleep in. He was nearing the bathroom just as you left it, and you folded your arms over your chest as he eyed you.

“You know how to get the couch sorted. See you in the morning?”

His uncharacteristic silence unnerved you, and you fought the urge to squirm under his piercing gaze. He ran his eyes over you, slowly, and you swallowed. Harry’s gaze snapped to the action, eyes tracing your throat before lingering on your lips. Eventually, his eyes met yours again, lips pulling into a humorless crooked smile as he brushed past you, shoulder grazing yours.

“Of course.”

You blinked as the door shut behind you before forcing your feet to move. You shut your bedroom door behind you just as the sound of running water could be heard, and you hadn’t even realized that your fingers were trembling. You turned towards your door, hand hovering over the knob as you remembered what had transpired the last time that he was here. Your heart pounded beneath your chest, and confusion filled you as you mulled over what you may or may not want. Pulling your lip between your teeth, you back away, leaving the door unlocked, and you slipped into bed.

  


You didn’t know what time it was when you heard the soft click of your door snapping shut. It was hardly loud by any means, but it woke you nonetheless. Blinking a few times, you stared into the darkness before the overwhelming sense of being watched gripped you. Pushing yourself up with your elbows, you took in Harry’s form as he stood at the end of your bed.

“Mind if I crawl in?”

Weeks ago, you would have said yes without hesitation, but now you didn’t know if you minded or not. Even in the dark, you couldn’t escape that paralyzing gaze, and for some reason, you got the sense that Harry wouldn’t leave even if you did mind. At least not right away...not without making you squirm a bit first.

You pulled the covers back, a silent agreement, but you were stunned when Harry merely gripped them and pulled them completely off of the bed and out of your hands. Your eyes widened as he pressed a knee into the mattress, crawling over you, wasting no time before his lips met yours in a heated kiss. You had no time to process what was happening, Harry immediately finding comfort in between your parted legs.

If you thought the kiss before was real, then it was nothing compared to the way he kissed you now. The one before was almost immature in nature, timid in comparison, and it wasn’t hard to pinpoint why. Harry kissed you like a man starved, finally getting what he’d been craving, what he’d gone so long without.

You could hardly move as he had you pinned beneath him, fingers dancing up your legs, taking your t-shirt with them as they went. You finally felt like you could breathe when he dragged his lips down to your jaw, pressing kisses there before shifting his attention to your neck instead. It was insane. With how many guys you’d slept with, none of them came close to making you feel how Harry did. And he was barely laying a finger on you.

You felt him pull at your underwear, a gasp escaping you when he dragged them down your legs. Was this really happening? Was this something you wanted to happen? If you wanted, there was still time to salvage this friendship, to stop things before they truly went too far. Despite your own conflicted feelings on the matter, you opened your mouth to do just that, but Harry’s lips swallowed your words, long fingers finding their way inside of you.

You gasped into his mouth, only just now feeling his rings press into your skin, shudders wracking your frame as he played with you. In and out. That was all you could comprehend, how he moved them within you, curling them with every thrust and every flick of his wrist. Harry groaned as he tasted the inside of your mouth, pulling away to sit up on his knees. You were a squirming mess beneath him, and he pressed his other hand onto your stomach to hold you down when your back lifted from the bed.

Your head was thrown back, mouth parted and eyes focused on your ceiling. Every attempt to swallow down a moan was unsuccessful, and it wasn’t long before his own name started to tumble from your lips. You wrapped one hand around his wrist, nails pressing into his skin as he pushed his fingers into you, the sound of your arousal filling the room. Your other hand wrapped around his arm, holding on as your climax creeped up on you, crescendoing until you were shaking beneath him, feet pressing into the bed while Harry watched you come undone.

You still shook as he withdrew from you, and you watched as he wrapped his lips around his fingers, a low moan escaping at the taste of you. His lashes fluttered closed, like he was savoring it, and when he opened his eyes again, they were the most serious you’d ever seen them. The seconds that followed were a blur.

Your shirt was easily ripped off of you, and Harry’s own clothes soon followed, landing on the floor just as he settled over you again. He took your face into his hands, drinking you in with a look that scared you. It wasn’t just triumph, but it was satisfaction and yearning and possessiveness all rolled into one. It was so similar to how he always looked at you, but it was also so different. You thought that you had seen through him, could read him so well, but this was a rude awakening.

Harry had hid much more than you could have ever imagined.

He kissed you again, pressing his lips against yours so fiercely, you were sure they’d bruise. The cool metal of his rings pressed into your jaw, and he breathed into your lips, his lower half shifting, lifting, just before he flipped you over. A gasp escaped you when the room spun, and you blinked as you adjusted to this new position on your stomach. Harry’s fingers fisted into your hair, lips grazing your neck, and that was all the warning you got.

A choked moan escaped you when he thrust into you, your warm walls welcoming him like he belonged there. Perhaps he did, and perhaps Harry had known that all along. He moaned into your neck, the sound deep and shaky, the vibrations traveling through your heated frame. He held himself there for the longest time, just delighting in the feel of you wrapped around him. You did the same, eyes falling closed at your fullness, at how Harry seemed to stretch you so good.

One hand was still in your hair, the other pressing into your waist as he pulled back until only the tip of him remained before he snapped his hips against you. Your eyes flew open, your gasp bleeding into breathy moans as Harry set an unrelenting pace. Every curve of his hips had your toes curling, and you wondered to yourself why you hadn’t done this sooner. What had you been so afraid of? As Harry pressed kisses to your neck, fingers tightening in your hair, you remembered what you had been so afraid of.

Yes, Harry had always looked at you like a lover, but never like a lover that he was trying to court, that he hoped would be his. He looked at you like he already knew what you tasted like, felt like. Harry looked at you like a lover that was already his. No matter how many men you’d slept with nor how many drunken makeout sessions you’d participated in, Harry always looked at you like you belonged to him.. He touched you like you were his, wrapped you up in his arms, slid in behind you during the early hours of the morning before the sun even rose like you were his.

You feared what would happen when you finally were.

Your hand clutched the pillow, other fingers scraping the sheets as he pushed himself in and out of you. You could hardly speak, let alone keep your eyes open, and you squeezed them shut, fingers tightening on the pillow with every snap of his hips. You bit your lip, embarrassed by the sounds he was drawing out of you, but despite your efforts, soft whimpers found their way into the air.

“You feel so good, pet,” he breathed. “Doing so well…”

You clenched around him at his praise, and his deep chuckle reached your ears.

“You like that, do you?”

Certain that you were drawing blood by now, you released your lip, a shaky sigh escaping you. The sound of skin slapping against skin overshadowed everything else, and you pressed your forehead against the sheets. Harry had you caged beneath him, his other hand leaving your waist and pressing into the mattress beside your head. Your scalp burned from his tight grip, and your core burned even hotter from his thrusts. When you peeled your eyes open again, you were surprised to find your vision blurry, and it was only after you blinked did you take note of the tears kissing your lashes.

Crying during sex was a first for you, but it couldn’t be helped. Harry was fucking you so good, and you wondered how you’d ever go to anyone else. A laugh threatened to bubble in your chest, but all that escaped was another moan. As if Harry would ever let you… The way he touched you, kissed you, fucked you...it made you think that he wasn’t planning to let you go anytime soon.

You could feel your stomach tightening, and you reached back to twist your fingers into his dark curls. He groaned at the action, picking up his pace, and his name slipped from your lips again and again and again. Each time a bit higher than the last, and the coil within you snapped, your core clenching and fluttering around his cock. He stilled against you, dewy chest pressed to your back as he spilled into you, flooding your insides with a low moan.

You weren’t even able to catch your breath before he was maneuvering your head to kiss you. He swallowed what little breath you had left, pulling out of you and rolling you onto your back, never breaking the kiss. Your eyes were barely open when he pulled away, and you moved to chase his lips with your own, missing the feel of them already, but his hands on your face prevented you from doing so.

You stared at each other for what felt like a long time, your lashes fluttering as you gazed into his eyes. Harry’s thumbs brushed circles into your skin, and his eyes glinted with something unknown as his lips pulled into a smirk. With a satisfied chuckle, he leaned down to kiss you again. 


End file.
